I have blogged previously about how startling the gap between the have plenty and have not a pot to piss in here is. Today I was going to get a full-on insight into this by going on a half day tour of Cape Town's townships.
I'd be lying if I said I was particularly excited about doing so. Indeed I had been weighing up whether to go at all. It just sounds so wrong to spend your time on a holiday, as a comparatively very well off person, strolling around taking pictures and looking at other people's poverty and suffering like it is a tourist attraction. In the end I was talked into it by people who, rightly, pointed out that by not going I would be spending money in waterfront bars and restaurants when it could be going towards helping people living in the townships make ends meet. Plus, I do find the history of South Africa fascinating, and was keen to find out more.
I had to be up early for my tour, and things didn't start very well when my first act of the day was to vomit into the toilet bowl. I had had a very uncomfortable sleep, made worse by the heat and some scarily vivid dreams - I dreamt one of my work colleagues turned into a Labrador and gave birth to puppies. Not wishing to dwell on this for fairly obvious psychological reasons, I had a shower and felt much better after a light fruit breakfast.
The first stop on our tour was the Section 6 Museum. Section 6 was a relatively central district of Cape Town with Table Mountain to its back and the ocean to its front. In 1966, probably because it was potentially a picturesque part of town to live in, the Government ruled that it was to be a Whites Only district. Generations of black families were forced out, and what was a lively and popular part of Cape Town was raised to the ground. It was policies such as these which account for how the centre of South African cities are predominantly white, whilst blacks live in townships on the outskirts.
The museum captured the history, significance and human impact of what was, let's be honest, ethnic cleansing in a powerful and dignified way. Ironically, the attempts to create another white enclave didn't come to much. All the black population was dispersed, but widespread construction didn't really happen, and today there is masses of open space that people can by law try and reclaim. For whatever reason, and the impact on the South Africa economy caused by international sanctions seems the most likely, all that was achieved by designating Section 6 a white only area was the growth of the townships.
And so we headed into the township of Langa and were taken on a stroll around by our guide. The place infused obvious poverty with a real sense of community, and it is for that reason I felt like an intruder. Everyone was perfectly friendly, but I wouldn't want a bus full of tourists descending on my front door as the price that had to be paid to survive. Not that I'm really in a position to judge how they should feel about life.
Our guide took us into what was basically a hut, where two women were preparing steel buckets of what looked like a local brew. Indeed it was a mild beer, and we were all encouraged to take sips of it while our guide told us more about life in the township (it tasted like a kind of flat, sour cider). People under the age of 30 are not allowed to drink the local brew here so as to send a message about the problems of alcohol and drug addiction (anyone over the age of 18 can still go to a shop and buy booze, but I admire the intention). Crystal Meth is also very popular with the kids here, our guide informed us, but unlike the beer I am pleased to say we were not invited to have a go on this particular local favourite.
As we walked around the township, our guide showed us the various types of housing people live in. The type of home you are entitled to basically depends on your income, or who you work for (government employees get nicer places). There are also home owners in the area - generally speaking people who grew up in the township, got an education and went on to be doctors or teachers. They could afford to live in a 'nicer' area, but choose not too, which as our guide explained makes them useful role models for the kids growing up in the township today. The presence of better homes in the area acts as an incentive to what can be achieved, not a bone of contention, he argued. Our guide was very big on the need for greater access to education, and the impact it could have on children growing up here. When someone asked him if crime was a big problem locally, he said: "We have just the one police station here, and that is all we need. If we need more of anything, it is schools." I'd love to see that as a slogan in an election campaign - We need more schools, not more police
As we walked around in the sweltering heat, I asked our guide if people in the townships minded tourists coming into visit. I wasn't expecting him to say that they did, but his answer was either movingly genuine, or a brilliant example of PR. He said that he used part of his wages from running tours to help set up a communal kitchen in the local area, which provided food on a daily basis to poor kids who otherwise would go unfed. It certainly made many of us feel a bit better about the whole experience!
One of the biggest issues facing South Africa's townships is not so much tourists, but an influx of what are effectively refugees from other African states, such as Solamia and Zimbabwe. These people are not entitled to housing or benefits as such, but they do have certain legal rights after a period of time from when they have added even more ramshackle homes to the sprawling townships. This has bred resentment amongst the black South Africans, and violence has spilled over on many occasions in recent years. Without wanting to start sounding too philosophical, it is always a tragedy - and it happens in the UK as much as it does anywhere - when the poor take it out on the poor. Especially, as in the case in South Africa, when the fault lies with the rulers of this continent over so many years.
We then visited another township - Khayelitsha - which is home to around a million people and is the largest in Cape Town. This place just seemed mad - people were try into steal electricity from the traffic lights with wires and poles (I kid you not). Herds of cows wandered out onto the dual carriageway. It was chaotic, and yet entertaining in its own way.
We were taken to the first ever bed and breakfast set up in a township, which I had actually read about in various publications before. The owner of the place proudly displayed cuttings on the wall of a Sunday Mirror story from 2010 which reported that England fans would be staying in townships because of the price of mainstream hotels during the World Cup. I asked her how these England fans had got on round here. "They found it a very interesting and educational experience," she said. In other words, they got pissed, started singing 'Two World Wars and One World Cup' and were later found helping conduct electricity from the traffic lights to a shanty town...
Our final stop on the tour was a small school round the back of the B&B. This was the worst part of the day in many respects. We were wielded out to dozens of little kids like some kind of freak show, who swarmed around us, clutching our legs, demanding high fives and to play with my iPhone. If I was going to interrupt a schooling day, I'd have preferred to do something a little more worthwhile than high fiving the pupils - like helping out with a lesson or something. Anyway, we then had to watch and join in with a rendition of 'If you're happy and you know it clap your hands' which I was mightily relieved nobody filmed through fear of it somehow ending up on Facebook...
All in all it had been a hugely informative day. I left the townships feeling taken aback by some of the conditions I saw, but equally glad to see that most of the people living there do have access to a school, free healthcare, clean water, electricity and more hope for the future than previous generations must have had.
No comments:
Post a Comment